The Skin Collector(Lincoln Rhyme)

II

THE UNDERGROUND MAN




WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 6

NOON





CHAPTER 17





The morning had been a flurry of activity, trying to correlate the evidence Sachs had come up with to pinpoint a place where the unsub might be living or had decided to make his stalking ground.

Rhyme wheeled back and forth in front of the chart, feeling in his neck and jaw the thump as the Merits chair rolled over one of the power cables bisecting the floor of his parlor.





* * *





237 Elizabeth Street



Victim: Chloe Moore, 26 – Probably no connection to Unsub

– No sexual assault, but touching of skin



Unsub 11-5 – White male

– Slim to medium build

– Stocking cap

– Thigh-length dark coat

– Dark backpack

– Wore booties

– No friction ridges

– Professional tattoo artist or has been

– May be using a ‘splitter’ for the tattoos

– Uses bloodline to outline the tattoos

– Not from area; more rural probably

– Using book to learn techniques and outthink Rhyme and police?

– Obsessed with skin

– Will possibly be targeting the police

– Organized offender; will be planning attacks ahead of time

– Probably returned to the scene



COD: Poisoning with cicutoxin, introduced into system by tattooing – From water hemlock plant

– No known source

– Concentrated, eight times normal



Sedated with propofol – How obtained? Access to medical supplies?



Tattooed with ‘the second’ Old English typeface, surrounded by scallops – Part of message?

– Task force at police HQ checking this out

– Scallops are cicatrization – scarring – and probably significant



Portable tattoo machine used as weapon – Probably American Eagle



Cotton fiber – Off white

– Probably from Unsub’s shirt, torn in struggle



Page from book – Probably torn from Unsub’s pocket in struggle

– Probably mass produced hardcover 1996–2000

– Book is Serial Cities. He was interested in Chapter 7, about Bone Collector.

– Psychological connection with Bone Collector? Revenge?

– Using book to learn techniques and outthink Rhyme and police?

– Obsessed with skin

– Will possibly be targeting the police



Possibly used adhesive rollers to remove trace from clothing prior to attack.

Handcuffs – Generic, cannot be sourced



Flashlight – Generic, cannot be sourced



Duct tape – Generic, cannot be sourced





Trace evidence



Nitric oxide, ozone, iron manganese, nickel, silver beryllium, chlorinated hydrocarbon, acetylene – Possibly oxy-fuel welding supplies



Tetrodotoxin – Fugu fish poison

– Zombie drug

– Minute amounts

– Not used on victim here



Stercobilin, urea 9.3 g/L, chloride 1.87 g/L, sodium 1.17 g/L, potassium 0.750 g/L, creatinine 0.670 g/L – fecal material

– Possibly suggesting interest/obsession in underground

– From future kill sites underground?



Benzalkonium chloride – Quaternary ammonium (quat), institutional sanitizer



Adhesive latex – Used in bandages and construction, other uses too.




Inwood marble – Dust and fine grains



Tovex explosive – Probably from blast site





* * *





Rhyme turned from the chart to Amelia Sachs, whom he caught staring out the window into the sleety morning. She was still obviously troubled by the news she’d received yesterday – that Pam was going on a ’round-the-world tour with her boyfriend, then moving in with him when they returned.

Seth was a nice young man, she’d explained as they’d lain in his sumptuous bed last night, lights out, the wind battering the windows. ‘To date. Not hole up in a hostel in Morocco or Goa. Maybe he’s Mr Perfect, maybe he’s not. Who can tell?’

‘Think it’ll blow over?’

‘No. She’s determined.’

‘Like you. Remember your mother didn’t like you going out with a gimp in a wheelchair?’

‘You could’ve been a marathon runner and she wouldn’t’ve liked you. Nobody could meet my mother’s standards. She likes you now, though.’

‘My point exactly.’

‘I like Seth. I’ll like him better in a year.’

Rhyme had smiled.

She had asked, ‘Any thoughts?’

‘Afraid not.’ Rhyme had been married for a few years. He’d gotten divorced not long after his accident (his call; not his wife’s), but the marriage had been doomed for some time. He was sure he’d been in love at some point but the relationship had soured for reasons he could never isolate, quantify and analyze. As for what he had with Sachs? It worked because it worked. That was the best he could say. Lincoln Rhyme was admittedly in no position to offer romantic advice.

But then who, ultimately, was? Love is an occurrence for which there are no expert witnesses.

Sachs had added, ‘And I didn’t handle it well. I got protective. Too motherly. It turned ugly. I should’ve been objective, rational. But, no, I let things get out of control.’

Now, this morning, Rhyme could see that Sachs was still deeply troubled. He was thinking he should say something reassuring, when, to his relief, the professional deflected the personal.

‘Have something here,’ Pulaski called from across the lab, where he’d been staring at a monitor. ‘I think …’ He fell silent, glowering. ‘Damn Internet. Just when I had some hits.’

Rhyme could see that his screen was frozen.

‘Okay, okay, up again.’

He was tapping more keys. Maps and schematics and what appeared to be lists of compounds and elemental materials popped up on the big screen.

‘You’re getting to be quite the scientist, rookie,’ Rhyme said, regarding the notes.

‘What do you have, Ron?’ Mel Cooper asked.

‘Some good news for a change. Maybe.’